Blogger hates me.
I'm still alive, and I still have one or two thoughts I'd love to share, but Blogger won't let me post.
The connection to the server was lost while trying to access this page. Do you want to try again?
Yes, dammit.
So we'll consider this a test run. And maybe later I'll stick up my obscenely long list of romances I've recently read. So long that I'm losing track of who said what and in which book various characters pop up.
Please publish. Please publish. Please publish. ::fingers crossed::
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Sending Flowers
Every Valentine's Day, I expect to get flowers. It's very female of me, I suppose, but I have to confess that the flower delivery has nothing to do with romance. In fact, the roses I receive every Valentine's Day really annoy the hell out of Dear Butcher.
Every since I was fourteen, and started boarding school, my mother has sent me roses on Valentine's Day. I used to be very confused about this, but now I get it.
Step 1) Receive flowers.
Step 2) Call Mom to thank her.
Step 3) This is the important part: Mom says, "Did you know that your father and I had our first date on Valentine's Day?"
"Yes."
"Well, I though maybe you forgot. You didn't call."
See, I'm supposed to call her on the day of her first date with my Dad and, what, congratulate her? I don't get it--I think the celebration of her first date with my Dad might be something she would like to celebrate with, Oh, I dunno, MY DAD!?! So since she doesn't think I'll call on Valentine's Day, she sends me flowers so that I'll have to call to thank her, and then she's made me call her, and all is right with the world. She used to send me flowers on her wedding anniversary too, so that I would call, etc. Somehow she's stopped with the anniversary flowers, but on Valentine's Day, the flowers still come. Dear Butcher is beginning to laugh it off, but only barely.
OK, so last week was my mother's birthday. My Palm kept blinking at me to do something about it, so I sent her flowers along with birthday wishes from the kids and me--scheduled to arrive the day before her birthday so that she was assured of getting them. I also sent flowers to Dear Butcher's mom to celebrate Rosh Hashanah.
Dear Butcher's mom calls. "What a lovely surprise! Thank you so much! How is everyone?" Lovely conversation.
My Mom calls: "I got home from the hospital and there were such lovely flowers waiting for me. How thoughtful."
"Hospital?"
"Yes. I finally had the surgery."
(Suisan's thinking, "Eh?")
"The doctor's wouldn't let me go home until I had urinated. They said it was really important..." OK, so at this point she goes off on some long tale about the recovery room, the way the surgery table was just so hard, etc. I still don't have a clue what surgery she's talking about, but hey, she's glad that I'm so thoughtful. I make some comment about the surgery being a hell of a birthday present. She laughs. I wish her Happy Birthday.
Next morning. Phone rings.
"Hi Dear!"
"Hi Mom."
"Well, it's my birthday! Did you forget?"
Long silence as I try to figure out what to say....
"Uh. Mom? I sent you flowers."
"Oh...Umm...I though those were for the surgery."
"Well, you know, I really sent them for your birthday. But they came early, and uh, I can see how maybe that was confusing...but there was a card."
"I called you, because, you know, you didn't call."
"But I sent flowers." God Damn It. I sent you Fifty Bucks worth of flowers. We talked last night. She's trying to guilt me because I didn't call her? Fifty Bucks, dammit.
So if I had sent her flowers for the surgery, and talked to her, and wished her a Happy Birthday, all on the day before her birthday, I still need to call her ON her birthday?
If I had sent her flowers for her birthday, but they arrived the day before, then I still need to call her ON her birthday, flowers or no flowers? But then she tries to guilt me for not sending her a gift.
OK, no more flowers.
Well, I'll keep sending them to Dear Butcher's mom. She loved them.
And I think I'll send some to me. I could use some irises on my desk.
Every since I was fourteen, and started boarding school, my mother has sent me roses on Valentine's Day. I used to be very confused about this, but now I get it.
Step 1) Receive flowers.
Step 2) Call Mom to thank her.
Step 3) This is the important part: Mom says, "Did you know that your father and I had our first date on Valentine's Day?"
"Yes."
"Well, I though maybe you forgot. You didn't call."
See, I'm supposed to call her on the day of her first date with my Dad and, what, congratulate her? I don't get it--I think the celebration of her first date with my Dad might be something she would like to celebrate with, Oh, I dunno, MY DAD!?! So since she doesn't think I'll call on Valentine's Day, she sends me flowers so that I'll have to call to thank her, and then she's made me call her, and all is right with the world. She used to send me flowers on her wedding anniversary too, so that I would call, etc. Somehow she's stopped with the anniversary flowers, but on Valentine's Day, the flowers still come. Dear Butcher is beginning to laugh it off, but only barely.
OK, so last week was my mother's birthday. My Palm kept blinking at me to do something about it, so I sent her flowers along with birthday wishes from the kids and me--scheduled to arrive the day before her birthday so that she was assured of getting them. I also sent flowers to Dear Butcher's mom to celebrate Rosh Hashanah.
Dear Butcher's mom calls. "What a lovely surprise! Thank you so much! How is everyone?" Lovely conversation.
My Mom calls: "I got home from the hospital and there were such lovely flowers waiting for me. How thoughtful."
"Hospital?"
"Yes. I finally had the surgery."
(Suisan's thinking, "Eh?")
"The doctor's wouldn't let me go home until I had urinated. They said it was really important..." OK, so at this point she goes off on some long tale about the recovery room, the way the surgery table was just so hard, etc. I still don't have a clue what surgery she's talking about, but hey, she's glad that I'm so thoughtful. I make some comment about the surgery being a hell of a birthday present. She laughs. I wish her Happy Birthday.
Next morning. Phone rings.
"Hi Dear!"
"Hi Mom."
"Well, it's my birthday! Did you forget?"
Long silence as I try to figure out what to say....
"Uh. Mom? I sent you flowers."
"Oh...Umm...I though those were for the surgery."
"Well, you know, I really sent them for your birthday. But they came early, and uh, I can see how maybe that was confusing...but there was a card."
"I called you, because, you know, you didn't call."
"But I sent flowers." God Damn It. I sent you Fifty Bucks worth of flowers. We talked last night. She's trying to guilt me because I didn't call her? Fifty Bucks, dammit.
So if I had sent her flowers for the surgery, and talked to her, and wished her a Happy Birthday, all on the day before her birthday, I still need to call her ON her birthday?
If I had sent her flowers for her birthday, but they arrived the day before, then I still need to call her ON her birthday, flowers or no flowers? But then she tries to guilt me for not sending her a gift.
OK, no more flowers.
Well, I'll keep sending them to Dear Butcher's mom. She loved them.
And I think I'll send some to me. I could use some irises on my desk.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
the only constellation I find immediately.
(The Big Dipper still hides)
The one my mother showed me
standing on a dock
on the shore of Maine.
rocking our base
our hips flung apart to balance the sway
of our unsteady legs
wide hips, straight knees braced
a warrior's stance.
The sword?
Three and three
a triumvirate:
God and Man and the Holy Ghost
Three in One
my mother's little sister
took me up to the roof of her barn,
fear of sliding off the tilt onto the rock below,
horses crunching on hay below us,
eating a pulse of life to fill the night
with the warm comfort of contentment.
The sword?
Three and three
The triumvirate:
Family and Fear and Familiar
Three in One
long dead
was the night on the roof
the night she tried to show me the details
the green stars, the red.
To make her proud
I lied to say I could see colors
I stepped out of my house with the trash
bacon and paper and coffee
and there you were, Orion.
balancing just above the sour can
the street lamps shining against your shoulders
dimming all the stars around you
swimming in an orange sulfur sky
and your knees
flung apart as a warrior stands
fighting the tide of distraction
cars and kids and trash
remember me
dipping into a fog
calves thrashing against the undertow
yet your sword
your one sandaled foot
the waves
and the hay
and the night
when in silence women said
look at the stars
and
I love you.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Middle School
Who says my daughter's bored in "Computer Power"? Who?
This is an elective which fills part of the year. She's really interested in the other half, which is a multi-media art class. But for right now, I keep hearing stories about how boring it is to be learnng about cut-and-paste, filling in field data, and other fairly elementary stuff.
Judging from the cover of her "Computer Power" folder, reproduced below, there's not much going on in class. (But I like her dragons--she's a Naomi Novik fan now too.) (COOL! Check out the website--the series has been optioned by Peter Jackson!! Yay!)
This is an elective which fills part of the year. She's really interested in the other half, which is a multi-media art class. But for right now, I keep hearing stories about how boring it is to be learnng about cut-and-paste, filling in field data, and other fairly elementary stuff.
Judging from the cover of her "Computer Power" folder, reproduced below, there's not much going on in class. (But I like her dragons--she's a Naomi Novik fan now too.) (COOL! Check out the website--the series has been optioned by Peter Jackson!! Yay!)
Friday, September 08, 2006
News Headline
Along the lines of Ms. Kate Rothwell's discovery of the zoophilia instructional page: Animal Cruelty case
So, emm, just thinking out loud here: wouldn’t teeth be involved in this endeavor? And, really, sexually assaulting a horse? What, the horse thought about it later and decided that his dignity had been assaulted and his reputation impugned, so the horse pressed charges? Very, very odd.
Sheriff's Deputies Make Bizarre Arrest
Wednesday September 6, 2006
Santa Barbara County sheriff's deputies come across a bizarre encounter at La Purisima Mission in Lompoc.
Around midnight they found a 69-year-old Huntington beach man naked and covered in oats.
Deputies say the man had covered himself in olive oil, rolled around in oats and allowed the horses at the mission to lick him clean.
He apparently told deputies this has always been a fantasy of his and drove up from the Los Angeles area to play it out.
Alfred Thomas Steven was cited and released for trespassing, animal cruelty and sexually assaulting an animal.
So, emm, just thinking out loud here: wouldn’t teeth be involved in this endeavor? And, really, sexually assaulting a horse? What, the horse thought about it later and decided that his dignity had been assaulted and his reputation impugned, so the horse pressed charges? Very, very odd.
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